


Red Ties & Golden Eyes

by orphan_account



Category: Buzzfeed Unsolved (Web Series)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Alternative Universe - Vampires, But not on purpose, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Exes, Flashbacks, Fluff and Humor, Hurt Shane Madej, M/M, Nightmares, No beta we die like mne, Occasional fluff, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Rating May Change, Ryan Bergara Loves Shane Madej, Ryan starts BFU at 27/28 yrs old and Shane joins Buzzfeed at 34, Shane Madej Loved Ryan Bergara, Sickfic, Strangers to Friends to Lovers, Supernatural Elements, Supernatural Ryan Bergara, TW Vomiting, Tired Ryan Bergara, Vampire Ryan Bergara, attempted humor, but in their past they were
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-04
Updated: 2020-08-09
Packaged: 2021-03-06 07:14:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 9,095
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25699399
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Five years have passed since Shane left Ryan, their history undisclosed to their coworkers. At 29 and 34, they meet again with bad blood between them that even Ryan, vampiric as he is, can't easily defuse. They're put at even greater odds when Shane discovers that Ryan's come down with a mysterious illness and he becomes adamant on reentering Ryan's life to Ryan's chagrin, hurt, and confusion.
Relationships: Ryan Bergara/Shane Madej
Comments: 7
Kudos: 33





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> So, the summary of this idea is that I wanted to experiment more with Vampire Ryan. I have a good portion of this plotted out and have decided to continue writing- I'll just be inconsistent at uploading because school is starting soon, I have a lot of things to juggle at the moment, and I've had trouble motivating myself to write. However, there are some people who do want to see this pan out and I don't wanna let them down, esp since I have the idea outlined already, so like, why not write it?
> 
> I hope you enjoy :)

**Chapter 1**

“You’re fucking kidding me,” Shane spat, watching Ryan on the floor pick up various papers belonging to him and Shane, both. Ryan didn’t say anything in reply. “Is this a fucking joke? Why are _you_ here? Is this part of some sick game you’ve got going, Ryan?”

If anyone listened close enough, they could hear the slight desperation and tremors in his voice.

Ryan gulped faintly and he shook his head without looking up at Shane, continuing to gather and organize the papers. Shane just glared down at him. He doesn’t know what pisses him off more— the fact that Ryan is here, the fact that Ryan was hanging his head, or the fact that Ryan wasn’t speaking. He stays quiet as Ryan picks up the last few pieces-

“Fucking- _give me that_ ,” he growls and rips his stack from Ryan’s hands when he bends back up. He doesn’t turn around as he continues walking and Ryan doesn’t come after him. He ignores the concerned looks everyone sends them both and stomps into his area of the office, any oncoming coworkers parting like the red sea. 

Just- Just _seeing_ him here- He wanted to kick over a fucking desk and tear down the walls of Buzzfeed and _scream_ and _wail_. All he could fucking see was red and he felt his gut twist with nausea. He-

_“Hi! I’m Ryan, one of the new interns! Nice to meet you!”_

he- 

_“N-No I don’t! You wish I wanted to borrow your jacket!”_

he- 

_“I’m trying to say I have a crush on you you dumbass!”_

he-

_“Shane, I can explain! Please!”_

-he clenched his fists and then let them go, exhaling deeply. His head and jaw were already hurting from how winded up he was and he pushed _him_ to the back of his head. He shouldn’t be wasting his time and fucking energy on that shit. 

Or rather, he wouldn’t.

**Red Ties & Golden Eyes**

_There was only darkness all around him. There were no items in sight for frame of reference, and Shane’s legs shook as he looked down to find himself standing over nothing but the void. He doesn’t know if taking a step will push him over an edge of any sort, so he didn’t try it._

_There, alone in the darkness, he just stood, quiet. Waiting. Watching. Holding his breath._

_He could see nothing. He was nothing. He couldn’t differentiate anymore between seconds and minutes nor could he tell when he had his eyes closed, and when he didn’t. He thinks hours must have passed in the darkness with him just waiting in vertigo, waiting for something to happen._

_That’s when he heard it. The ripple of footsteps above water and he turned frantically, eyes searching-_

_In the far off distance—_ god, he doesn’t even know if that was the original direction he was facing anymore or not _— Ryan walked a path perpendicular to Shane’s gaze. He was dressed as normal as ever, donning his denim jacket—_ the one that Shane gave to him for his 24th birthday _— and ripped black jeans._

_Something seemed…off, though, but Ryan wouldn’t turn and meet his gaze. Shane stared and stared as Ryan slowly walked further and further away before the panic set in and he ran forward, trying to call out to him and put him in his reach, except-_

_His voice never left his throat. His feet wouldn’t carry him on. Instead, he felt himself sink beneath the floor (???), gasping for breath but never hearing it in his own ears. His legs went, then his waist, his torso—_

_He fought to keep his head above the (floor?? Water??) running his throat hoarse, sounds never escaping his mouth. His arms sunk deeper as he tried to grasp the surface to lift himself up, holding onto nothing and instead falling victim as well. The ground felt as though it disappeared beneath his feet— like swimming in the ocean when the sand below you had gone._

_Darkness lapped at his chin, liquid running into his ears and just before his head succumbed to the waves, he finally called out, rasping and gargling._

**_“RYAN!!!”_ **

_And Ryan turned in the distance. Even with his mouth and nostrils gagging and breathing in the tar that made up everything around them, Shane’s eyes focused on Ryan like a hawk, he-_

_He-_

_…_

  
  


_He stopped fighting, mesmerized by the gold and glitter of Ryan’s irises as he ran to save him._

_But Shane was lost to the darkness before Ryan could reach him, furrowed golden eyes burning into his head._

  
  
  


Shane startled awake, gasping for air against sweat soaked sheets and clothes. Even as he registered the shapes and light around himself, he sat up and immediately ran his hands through his hair, across his arms, and around his legs, reassuring himself that he was back in the living world and that he wasn’t coated in that black _(slick, water, sand, tar, cement???_ ).

There was nothing. He was safe.

But even after he’d registered it— _felt it_ — his rapid panting still invaded the room, dimly lit by the blinking charging light of his laptop on his bed. He glanced at his bedside table. 

4:47AM. He sighed for a second time before the anger and confusion set in.

What…the fuck? He hasn’t had one of those dreams about _him_ in five years. Not since he packed up and left him in New York the first time. Was it because he’d run into Ryan again? He’d just barely gotten hired for fucking Buzzfeed, too, he couldn’t just up and leave so soon. He rubbed the crust out of his eyes, figuring he won’t ever get back to sleep now. Fucking hell. Even after telling him to leave him alone all those years ago… 

Shane didn’t realize the buildup of rage inside of him until a growl emanated throughout the room, scaring him. A growl that came from him. Fuck…he needed to calm down.

_Ten, nine, eight, seven, six, five, four, three, two, one…_

He let out a long, tired breath and rubbed his temples again. He definitely wasn’t getting back to sleep anymore. He threw off his covers, blanketing the light of his laptop and reached out for his lampshade, illuminating the room in a faint, warm glow. 

He was gonna have a talk with Ryan later that morning, but for now, if he couldn’t get back to sleep, he might as well go for a run.

* * *

Every second in the office felt like needles pricking his skin, a twitch of his fingers here and there from the frustration building inside him. He’d cornered Ryan in the parking lot—

_“Shane, I swear, I’m not manipulating your dreams or at least not willingly-”_

_“Don’t bullshit me, Ryan. What fucking else would you have to do in the middle of the night except play with people’s sleep or suck someone’s neck dry, huh?” Whatever Ryan was going to say shriveled up quickly, and as angry as Shane was, he felt a little guilty watching the hurt of the stereotypes blossom in Ryan’s eyes._

_“I’ll ask my mom about them…”_

_Shane exhaled slowly in irritation and defeat. “Sure,” he said, but they both knew it was going to be as useless as the last time._

—which didn’t yield any productive results. So now, here he was, 8AM on a Friday, an asshole with no sleep. Just fucking peachy.

Because he couldn’t calm down for the foreseeable future, he sat waiting for something to happen around the office that could minutely distract him. And something did happen. Just the opposite of what he wanted, though. 

Ryan’s head popped in through one of the hallways-

“Are you fucking kidding me?” Shane said out loud because of all the-

He vacated the room before more coworkers could stare at him and ask what triggered him. If anyone asked, he’d just say that his save file from the day before had corrupted and he’d have to do the last hour or so of his edits all over again.

On his way out, he heard Ryan nervously asking Sara, who sat in front of his desk, if she could fill in for Brent temporarily on the show because “Brontosaurus had some other shoot he had to be a part of today.” Admittedly, the nickname was a little funny, but he was so riled up he couldn’t even smile for the life of him.

He walked into the restroom to wash his face with water quickly before heading back out. When he returned, Ryan was gone and Sara was eyeing him confusedly, but Shane didn’t meet her eyes.

* * *

The nightmares didn’t stop. At least twice a week, like clockwork, Shane woke up in the middle of the night— sometimes more than once— practically fighting for his life against an invisible danger. It was a little concerning how easily he fell back on the feeling of waking up disoriented, throat dry and mouth uncomfortable and only the options of going back to bed, lying half awake all night, or staying up. He had to be more careful as the days went on as well to not close his eyes for too long lest he succumb to the exhaustion at work or even after, his prime time for chasing after deadlines.

While he didn’t have a scare everyday of the week, his other dreams were reduced to what felt like minutes of discomfort before he blinked away to find 10PM turned into 6AM. From the way that his coworkers had begun looking at him, it was obvious, too. His sunken eyes, the constant sighing, nodding off, dazed looks on occasion, and the ever present ache growing in his side that radiated discomfort by the day, like a restless muscle that can’t be massaged out. 

He didn’t miss the ways that Ryan would look at him concerned whenever they ran into one another again (not literally anymore, of course). It was like a repeat of years before, when they were both younger and “in love”. Back when Shane didn’t doubt some stupid workplace crush to be the reason his stomach fluttered around Ryan and how every brush of their fingertips sent electricity through his spine.

Over the rim of his glasses, he watched Ryan across the room discussing something with Curly, pointing to each other’s screens and mulling over different ideas that Shane’s hearing wasn’t privy to from where he sat. When Ryan seemed to grow increasingly uncomfortable and turned to lock eyes with Shane, he tore his away. 

  
  
  


The next day, when Shane stumbled into work dreary and slumping, there was a small red cloth pouch on his desk that smelled of garlic cloves, salt, and another ingredient that felt like grains. Maybe rice. Next to it was a small sticky note that read, “keep on you while sleeping” in that messy scrawl of Ryan’s, and the corner of his lip twitched upwards when he noticed the indents of erased writing from when Ryan seemed to have tried to fit everything on one line.

After having settled into his desk, red pouch stuffed into his chino pocket, Zach approached him asking if he’d like to be in a video testing how mid-work naps impacted workplace performance, and Shane agreed, resulting in him immediately getting dragged away to the set. He didn’t miss the twinkle of gold in Zach’s eyes, similar to that man’s years ago, iridescent and mesmerizing as Ryan’s commands slithered into their head.

With the pouch nearby, he had a fitful nap upon one of the office couches, rebounding his energy for the day. When he’d return home, the nightmares and blank dreams had stopped.

The next time he saw Ryan, Ryan wasn’t looking at him, and pushed up against the wall, Shane bit his lip as he refrained from approaching and telling him “thank you”.

Ryan would turn around later to try and spot the eyes that had been on him, but by then, Shane was gone.

* * *

Everything after that shifted back to normal with the two of them actively ignoring each other and avoiding entering spaces that the other frequently occupied. It was surprisingly as easy being done as it was being said since, with the progression of time, Ryan’s little ghost hunting show had grown and he was going out more and more to venture off into some woods or stank ass buildings and shit. Most days at the office when Ryan was out were spent being relatively productive.

That being said, Shane failed to foresee that it also left him an open target to others’ inquiries without the awkwardness of Ryan potentially overhearing things hanging over their heads.

First it was Zach name dropping Ryan and asking mundane questions to get him talking. After Shane figured him out, he completely shut up until Zach left. After him, Jen tried to get him to fill in for someone in Test Friends which, while he would have gladly done so, she seemed nervous to ask him about. He prodded further and found out Ryan was filling in for someone as well. He declined. Even Brent tried to talk to him, and even though he thought he was pretty chill as a fellow skeptic, Shane shut down on him just as quick.

Then came the day that Brent, TJ, Mark, and Ryan were out to film in New Orleans and Sara approached him over lunch, and, boy, he should’ve known they’d turn one of his closest friends against him.

“Hey, Shane? I’ve been meaning to talk to you about Ryan.” Shane tensed up, a hard look coming to his face as he slowly panned his eyes over to Sara.

“I’m sure I have zero idea what it is that we need talking about,” he said, avoiding more talk by diving back into his lunch. Sara groaned looking, frankly, fed up.

“This is what I was telling Quinta about! The both of you clam up faster than Thanos’s fucking asshole when Antman is in range-” Shane choked on his sandwich- “seriously! I can understand if you two have beef from the past, but this is ridiculous.”

“What could be ridiculous about me having issues with Ryan if it’s justified?”

“If it’s so _justified_ , then why are _you_ the only one with a problem? Dude, you two in the same room feels like waiting for a panther to pounce on a deer. And if it’s so bad, why won’t either of you talk about it? It’s clearly nothing criminal since Ryan would otherwise have an arrest record, so what could’ve happened, Ryan stole a past girlfriend or something?” Shane twitched.

“It’s none of your business, and as bad as it is, it’s not my secret to tell. All you should know is that I’m no fucking fan of having my trust betrayed, okay? There’s nothing I hate more than feeling played by someone I fucking trusted,” he muttered, looking into the distance as Sara sighed beside him.

“Okay. Okay. That, I can understand, but Shane, Ryan looks at you sometimes like you’d hung the moon. I don’t know what history you two have with each other, but if he did do something fucked up, then okay, fuck him, but, like, how long ago was this?”

Shane frowned. “Five years,” he said quietly.

“Fucking five?!” Sara exclaimed, eyes bulging. “Five years, with no contact ever since?” Shane nodded. “Dude! You don’t think that maybe by now, things have changed and you’re both different people? Whatever happened, Ryan is clearly guilty about it even when he thinks he’s being subtle about it. Whatever shit you two have with each other, it’s dragging you both down.”

Shane scoffed. “So what do you expect us to do, talk it the fuck out and expect him not to pull shit again? It’s in his nature, Sara.”

“What the fuck are you talking about?” she hissed. “You’re gonna have to give me more context, Shane, I’m all for listening to people, but you really don’t make much sense right now.” Shane opened his mouth to speak but Sara pummeled on. “And yes, I expect you two to talk, and if he keeps things up, then I say fuck him, but if he’s changed, how bad can it be? All I am literally asking of you two is that you talk shit out because news flash, Shane, you two aren’t the only ones in this work place. You’re my friend, Shane, and I don’t like hearing things being said about you behind your back, but right now, it looks to everyone else like you’re the only one here who’s got an issue with Ryan.”

“I don’t concern myself with what others think of me, Sara, you know that.”

“Yeah, well, say that again when your drama doesn’t suck everyone else in as well. If it’s something genuinely concerning that might put anyone else in danger, say shit, but if not, sort it out! You two are adults! I’m not saying to forgive him if it’s particularly fucked up, but at least get shit straightened out. Has Ryan not apologized or something?”

Shane said something under his breath, prompting Sara to ask him to repeat it.

“I left before he got the chance to.” He could feel her eyes bore into his head, both with disbelief and confusion.

“Jeez, I imagined you’d think it was bad, but _that bad_? Without saying anything about it?” He took another bite of his sandwich, all this talk about Ryan ruining his appetite and quickly making him irritated. The sandwich tasted like dust against his tongue now.

“Even if I did,” he said, openly chewing and disgusting Sara, “it would’ve done zilch against him.” Sara opened her mouth to speak again, but he wasn’t having it anymore. He’d let this conversation get too far. “I’m going back to work,” he said, grabbed his half-finished sandwich and trashed it. He felt too angry to keep anything down now.

* * *

“You’re not going to leave me alone about this, are you?” Shane sighed the next time that Sara found him after work to talk. She shook her head, setting LA sunlight shining beautifully through the gaps of curls in her hair. She’d dyed it purple over the weekend. “Why don’t you talk to Ryan about this shit if you’re so curious?”

“We have,” she said. “None of us have gotten through to him. Yet.”

“Let me guess, he fidgets nervously and caresses the back of his hand or some bullshit and avoids making eye contact while absolutely refusing to say a word. Maybe I should take a page out of his book, minus all the fidgeting.” Sara looked a bit stunned.

“Okay, one, that’s actually accurate, two, just how close had you two been, dude?”

Shane sighed, exhausted with the action. “Close enough to be pissed enough to pack up and leave the fucking state when shit hit the fan, close.” He moved past her with all his stuff packed up before she could get another word in.

* * *

“How about I ask you some questions for a change?”

Sara furrowed her brow. “About Ryan?”

“About Ryan.”

“Only if you let me ask you questions after,” she said.

“Deal. First thing’s first: how long has he been here?”

Shane watched the gears turn in Sara’s head. “Uh, I think he arrived a year and a half before you, more or less. It’s actually surprising that it took you two so long to meet if you ask me considering how we usually get new employees acquainted with everyone by their first couple of days, if not, week meaning…” She let her sentence hang, dripping with implication.

“You think he ignored me.” It wasn’t a question. He had also sort of suspected Ryan had a hand in delaying their meeting. 

“I mean, word got around quick, so my guess is, yeah.” She did that thing where she scrunched up the side of her mouth as if to say, ‘looks about right.’ “Now it’s my turn to ask. You said before that Ryan had a secret that wasn’t your place to tell-”

“I did, and I’ll say it again, I’m not in the position to say-”

  
“I’m not asking you to spill the beans, Shane. I just want to know on a scale of one to ten, how bad is it?” He shot her a look.

“Define bad.”

“Um. Danger? Is it a need to know? I’d like to know if something about a coworker put me at risk…” She went in for a sip of her coffee and Shane pulled out his phone as a notification dinged.

“Ten.” She nearly spat it out.

“What?! If it’s that bad, then why won’t you say anything??”

Shane looked up from his screen. “Dangerous as a concept. But if you ask me, Ryan wouldn’t use it to his advantage unless absolutely necessary.”

“If he does shit out of absolute necessity, don’t you think he had a good reason to have to betray your trust?”

“No.”

“Wha-”

“Sara,” he said tiredly, “you wouldn’t get it unless you knew the full picture, and I don’t have any business talking to you about it without Ryan’s consent. Please. Just leave it alone.” She must’ve seen the resignation in his eyes because as she went to speak, she stopped herself. He took the chance to walk away.

* * *

Days later, the Unsolved crew came back from New Orleans, Ryan walking in halfway through the day to return the camera gear, eye bags more prominent than ever and yawning every few seconds.

He wonders why he was so carefree about displaying his teeth in the workplace, if Ryan was ever self conscious and scared that something might show. But then again, if Ryan was to be believed, only someone like Shane who knew the truth was privy to the fangs normally hidden by Ryan's glamour.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> More backstory! Ew!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> writing fic to procrastinate gang wya
> 
> TRIGGER WARNING : sort of graphic depictions of illness. Vomiting. Yeah. I don't think it would be defined as too graphic but if anyone thinks I'd need to change it, will do.
> 
> Today and tomorrow's full of meetings for me not to mention homework to catch up on. As I am wont to do, the stress and pressure pushed me back into writing. Since a few people want to see more of this fic, I don't wanna let anyone down and have decided to continue it. Honestly, the flashbacks to when the bois r happy are keeping me alive.
> 
> Hope yall stay safe, have a good day, and enjoy :)

**Chapter 2**

_“It’s so fucking cold, dude, how are you not freezing right now?”_

_“How am I not cold!? How are you cold!?” Shane laughed. “Your hands are literally always freezing, if anything, you’re the abnormality here! I’m just used to the cold, baby! I don’t know what’s wrong with you!”_

_He giggled as Ryan rolled his eyes at him exasperatedly. “Whatever, man, goes to show how much you care about me,” he joked, nose upturned. Shane’s eyes twinkled._

_“Oh? You were trying to bait me? Is that it, Ryan?” Even in the overly artificial lights painting the streets of NYC, Shane could see the pink flush across Ryan’s cheeks._

_“N-No…”_

_“Admit it, Ryan,” he ribbed, “you wanted my jacket.”_

_“N-No I don’t! You wish I wanted to borrow your jacket!” God, the way Ryan pouted at him was just…ugh, it was so fucking cute and Shane was so stunned, but he knew he had to say something soon._

_“Keep telling yourself that. In the meantime,” he said, shifting to remove the denim atop his flannel, “take it.”_

_Ryan immediately put up a brat front, teasing. “No. I don’t want it anymore. You made fun of me.”_

_“Well, you just admitted you had wanted it, so really, I’m the winner here.”_

_Ryan laughed. “You won, but at what cost?”_

_“Everything,” Shane breathed dramatically, and Ryan wheezed, cheeks alight. And, well, if he glared at anyone who looked Ryan’s way while he laughed with him, that was no one else’s business._

  
  
  


“Keddie? Jesus, Ryan, that’s like, nine hours away,” Brent said in the hall, neither he nor Ryan aware of Shane approaching. “I mean, I can make it. It’s not as bad as staying across the country for a whole week, but still. That’s pretty far, man, and I have a shoot in two days. Do you think we can make it back by then?”

“Yeah,” Ryan said, voice getting closer. “If we leave tonight, ten hours to drive, stay overnight, film tomorrow, sleep, and then drive back? It’s still…” 

“Pretty tight schedule, there.”

“Yeah.” Ryan said tiredly. This clearly wasn’t the first scheduling issue the two had run into. He did feel bad for Ryan because while he held his grudge, he did hold some respect for him and the hard work he put into his show. No matter, this wasn’t Shane’s business, and after Ryan had once again pulled Sara away to fill in for Skeptic the last time they were having an actual conversation not about Ryan, he was feeling pretty salty.

He walked away before Ryan and Brent could exit the hall and see him.

* * *

Several days passed again as normal what with Brent and Ryan gone for filming and then returning again looking like they were dug out of their graves and forced to show up at work. That might be more accurate for Ryan, though, he had to admit… 

After Sara’s insistence on talking to Ryan, he never did take it upon himself to go and talk, but he did think about what she said. He doesn’t like admitting it. He has his pride, but he did leave hastily without ever giving Ryan the chance to explain himself. Everything just…the night just happened so fast and before he knew it, the panic had gone and he was already settling his ass into an uncomfortable plane seat flying across the country once again. He didn’t even give a notice before he quit his job. He was gone before Ryan could have a say and he’d like to think that it was his own decision as well and not something Ryan could say was pulled by some otherworldly bullshit all over again. Just thinking about it pissed him off.

Shane popped his neck. Lunch was almost over, meaning most of the restrooms would be pretty occupied and he doesn’t give a fuck how bad he had to piss, he wasn’t taking a piss in the restroom if it meant having only one stall between the himself and someone else, much less no space. 

Instead, he headed to the upstairs canteen with its single unisex restroom where less people went to eat and less people went to actually go to the restroom. Namely because the first and third floor, for some stupid reason, were the only ones with multiple stalls.

Fuck, he actually did have to piss…Maybe he should’ve gone downstairs regardless, but he was already on the second floor, might as well go through with it.

Before he could get there, he had to pass by the second floor canteen where several people were giving him some odd looks. Whatever. He didn’t give a fuck what other people thought.

He was almost at the door when the others there seemed to have some epiphany and called out to him— “Wait, Shane, Ryan-”

Seriously with bringing up Ryan again? He had to take a piss, he wasn’t going to sit through some more Ryan ta-

He pushed open the restroom door— and really, the fact that it had been sloppily closed should have been a red flag— and received an eyeful of Ryan heaving and vomiting into the toilet, hands white-knuckling the sides (he thinks he might puke, too, seeing that).

“Ryan!?” he exclaimed, shocked, but the younger man paid him no attention, panting for breath before more half-digested lunch came back up again, the retching sound coming from him making Shane cringe. He dashed towards him, placing his hand on his back while the door shut closed. “Ryan, hey- breathe- _Breathe,_ Ryan, c’mon.” The sour stench of stomach acid began to circulate in the restroom, and with every couple of breaths, Ryan whimpered pathetically. 

Shane rubbed circles into his spine, just below his traps and listened as Ryan continued to heave. Although, it seemed as though he’d finished, nothing much else in his stomach to puke. “C’mon, little guy, slow your roll there,” he cooed, and Ryan— he doesn’t know if it was a conscious decision or not— Ryan whined and rested his feverish head against the hand Shane had on his shoulder. The fact that he was so warm was a concern in and of itself. Ryan ran freezing cold most of the time, ergo why he was always layered as fuck. He’s never seen past his glamour in its entirety, but he’s also sure that his skin had the pale, still sheen of a corpse. He frowned.

Several minutes passed with Ryan just resting his closed eyes against Shane’s hand and Shane cooing and rubbing circles into his back. Shit, he hadn’t even pissed yet… 

“Ryan? Baby?” God, he hasn’t called him that in years… “Don’t fall asleep on me, little guy.” Ryan whined quietly but nodded his head against Shane’s hand and began to pull back from the toilet. He was still breathing heavily, and he sat back on his knees while Shane flushed the toilet before pulling Ryan up by the armpits. “Hey, are you okay?”

Ryan nodded quietly and Shane watched as he staggered to the sink half lidded and rinsed his mouth and washed his hands with a _lot_ of soap and water. “Ryan?”

“I’m good,” he rasped, head hanging. “Just…just a stomach bug.” Shane wondered if he was lying again, but he wouldn’t fight him on it if he was feeling like shit.

“Okay,” he said, and Ryan nodded one more time before taking his leave. Before the door closed, he heard the faint, far off questions of the others in the canteen asking about Shane and if he was good to eat again.

Shane was sure he’d stood around past his lunch break, but he kept thinking incoherently before he pissed and left. 

Just a stomach bug. Okay.

He gazed into the distance wondering if vampires could even get sick. Sara stared at him weirdly.

* * *

He still doesn’t actually try to talk to Ryan…but he does…start paying more…attention. Like for one, he noticed Ryan never hung around the first floor canteen. Rather, he stuck to the second floor canteen. Of course, he couldn’t go up there without obviously scouting out Ryan especially since he never really went up there before. Regardless, people still noticed.

“So, word says you whipped out your dick in front of Ryan puking his guts out?”

Shane _choked_ choked. “What the FUCK-”

“I’m kidding-”

“ _Who the fuck said that_ -”

  
“Yo, I’m-”

“I’ll kill you-”

After losing his shit for frankly three minutes, Shane calmed down enough to listen to Brent.

“Y’know, if, IF you took at least one shot at actually listening to us, you probably could have avoided that,” he ribbed. Shane turned so quick he could’ve gotten whiplash.

“That happens often?”

For god knows what fucking reason, Brent seems to think that that was crossing a line into too personal territory and starts trying to leave.

“Brent- fuck- hey!” he called.

“Sorry, man, have to go shoot an imaginary concept video, would you look at the time, I’m seven hours late,” he said quickly, and Shane giggled.

God dammit.

* * *

The next time it happened was just two days after the ‘conversation’ with Brent. Maybe he did it out of hope he’d get to grill Ryan again, maybe he did it out of germaphobic tendencies. Who knows, but the fact of the matter was that Friday he’d walked upstairs to once again use the single stall restroom and Ryan, as clumsy as ever, left the door unlocked for him to walk in and watch him pant against the sink, hands in his hair.

He doesn’t know if Ryan notices him or not, but regardless, he still walked in fully and shut the door behind him, coming up between Ryan to massage the areas between his shoulder blades and neck. Ryan doesn’t flinch, but he does try to shake off Shane. Would have continued had he not retched against the sink at the sudden motion.

He doesn’t want to think that he’s fallen back on old habits, but-

Ryan retches again, this time more violently, almost like his stomach was being dragged up through his lungs and Shane pulls him away to the toilet before he vomits into the sink. Pure stomach acid spills into the toilet— Shane thinks he’s going to need therapy after this— and Shane massages his nape lightly, fingertips sinking into the hair at the back of his head. On one stroke, he pulls away with knot tangling around his finger, and he thinks about how the last time he’d seen Ryan years ago, his hair was short and spiked most of the time. Now, he allowed it to grow in, curling naturally. He thinks he likes it.

He snaps out of his thoughts when Ryan pulls back from the toilet, breathing heavy again, each one mimicking a death rattle. “Jesus, Ryan…”

“I’m fine,” he pressed. The way his voice sounded like metal being dragged across cement really wasn’t helping convince him.

“...Can vampires even get sick?” Ryan shot him a look over his shoulder. “Ryan, you’re a fucking undead creature, I have a valid question here.”

“I’m still half-human,” he pouted and looked away, his signature motion when he’s about to lie. “And yes, we can.”

Shane tilted his head. “No you aren’t. You’re lying to me.” Ryan rolled his eyes.

“And here I thought I was the one who supposedly stuck around other peoples’ heads.” And immediately, all semblance of hospitality descended into hostility.

“Oh don’t you fucking-”

“YOU are the one who won’t move past that Shane! You never even gave me the chance to talk!”

“And am I at fault for that, Ryan? Am I really at fault when you give me every fucking reason to doubt my own feelings!? How do I fucking know I wasn’t in love with you because you _made me fall in love with you? Because you thought we were fated to be?_ ” he sneered in Ryan’s face.

Ryan broke down. With sweat still running down the sides of his head and the putrid scent of vomit still in the air, it was unsightly, and yet Shane still felt bad. Really fucking bad.

“You wouldn’t _fucking_ trust me, Shane,” he cried. “Why do you want an explanation now when you didn’t want it before? I _trusted_ you. I fucking loved you and if it weren’t for me, we would both be fucking dead right now, too. I trusted you to know because you asked and then you fucking packed your bags and _you left, Shane_.”

He didn’t want to deal with this. Not right now, at work, when anyone could sit nearby and eavesdrop on the conversation. “Ryan, look at me and tell me this. Did you love me because you loved _me_ , or did you love me because some fucking ‘ _red_ _string of fate_ ’ only _you_ can see fucking told you so?” Ryan sobbed harder, digging the palms of his hands into his eyes and shielding his face from Shane. He knew for a fact that his fangs were out right now. “Vampires was pushing it, Ryan. Soulmates? You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.”

Ryan whined and coughed. And then he kept coughing, building up again until-

Shane pushed his head over the toilet again before any of his vomit got over him, himself, or onto the floor, hands grasping Ryan’s hair before loosening so it wouldn’t hurt him. The back of his throat was going to be rubbed raw after this, he thought, wincing in sympathy, and he stood there with Ryan over the toilet again for another few minutes of their lunch, rubbing soothing patterns into Ryan’s back and softly talking to him.

When he was done, Shane flushed the toilet again and drew Ryan up, pushing him towards the sink to wash out his face, mouth, and hands while Shane went to fetch a gatorade from a vending machine to help wash out the rancid taste of stomach acid probably lingering on Ryan’s tongue. When he came back, Ryan still looked on the verge of crying, but he took the drink anyway and said thank you before Shane returned to the first floor, his lunch untouched.

When Sara came and sat back down, she raised her brows at him. “Talked with Ryan yet?” she asked, and Shane scoffed.

“If you can call arguing over a pool of his own vomit talking, then yeah, I talked with Ryan,” he said, and she winced.

“Sorry, man…”

Shane sighed. “It’s fine. Everything’s fine.”

Everything was not fine.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> writing fic to procrastinate gang wya
> 
> TRIGGER WARNING : sort of graphic depictions of illness. Vomiting. Yeah. I don't think it would be defined as too graphic but if anyone thinks I'd need to change it, will do.
> 
> Today and tomorrow's full of meetings for me not to mention homework to catch up on. As I am wont to do, the stress and pressure pushed me back into writing. Since a few people want to see more of this fic, I don't wanna let anyone down and have decided to continue it. Honestly, the flashbacks to when the bois r happy are keeping me alive.
> 
> Hope yall stay safe, have a good day, and enjoyed :)


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ryan is having some challenges with BFU but for a while, it almost seems like he and Shane can reconcile.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The song that's briefly used in the flashback is "Lock Me Up" by The Cab
> 
> Reminder that this won't be consistently updated because I'm sort of posting as I write and I'm not really sticking to my og script lol. Also, school starts for me in two days and I have a bunch of shit I actually have to do before the semester starts oop  
> As much as I'm (regrettably) forcing myself to write this, I think I'm starting to like it ngl. I have much more fun writing the fluff ofc bc the bois fighting and accidentally or intentionally hurting each other hurts my heart

**Chapter 3**

“Hey, Shane, you said last Friday you were with Ryan while he was puking again?” Sara asked after he got back from doing a number one. He’s learned not to go to the restroom towards the end anymore and instead just rush on over towards the start. He nodded.

“But he threw up several days ago before that? Monday?”

“Yeah.”

“That’s weird,” she mused and Shane looked at her questioningly. “He gets sick often, but not with mere days in between. I’ve only heard of him puking every so often before you got here— never twice in one week.”

“Huh.” He saved that tidbit of information in the back of his head.

* * *

Wednesday, they send in Eugene to question him and when he argues with his implication that Shane and Ryan were exes, Ryan runs past them from the bottom floor into one of the first floor restrooms, a couple of exclamations of surprise clear before faint retching can be heard from the less than soundproof walls. 

This time Shane doesn’t go to help, but when Ryan comes out, he wordlessly hands him a gatorade and walks back to his desk.

“Aren’t you supposed to not eat or drink anything if you vomit for more than ten minutes?” Eugene asks when he returns. Shane shrugs. He’s a half-vampire, what’s it gonna do, kill him? Seconds pass before Eugene speaks up again. “Didn’t know you helped him after his fits?”

Shane panned over to slowly him at this. “You trying to tell me he’s out here vomiting his guts out now and then and yall just let him?”

Eugene flushed with embarrassment. “Normally he’s not outright vomiting, but yeah.” 

“Fucking christ,” Shane muttered, a little defensive of Ryan’s behalf. “Bystander effect much?”

Eugene keeps quiet before he returns to his own desk.

* * *

It happens on a Thursday. Shane and Sara are walking back from a meeting when in one of the break rooms, they hear Brent say, “I can’t be a part of this anymore, Ryan!” and they both stop in their tracks. They don’t…mean to listen? But-

“But then what will I do, Brent?! Who am I supposed to film Unsolved with? We have to start uploading season three by October 13, we already have a film schedule! I need a co-host by my side!” Ryan sounded ready to tear his hair out.

“I understand, Ryan,” Brent said, “but I have other projects, too, dude! I can’t dedicate all of my time to the show- hell, three of these videos are in fucking London, Ryan. I’m sorry, but this isn’t something I can negotiate, and I’m already overwhelmed enough with other stuff to film and edit.” Ryan didn’t reply for some seconds. “I’m sorry, my guy, but I just can’t continue to be a part of this. Trust me when I say I love this show and I was happy to be a part of it and watch it grow with you, but I can’t dedicate myself to this, like, permanently. You can’t ask Sara to be your new co-host?”

“No,” Ryan whined, “she’s busy, too. I don’t know who I’m gonna ask, Brent. We’re already on season three, too, I’m going to have to break in someone new and what if we don’t work out or the fans don’t like them?”

There were a couple of faint pats, probably from Brent trying to reassure Ryan. “Hey, man, don’t say that. I’m sure you can find someone. You work well with everyone! Well- most everyone!” Hold on now, was that a jab at- “I doubt it’s going to be a problem for you, and the fans are pretty understanding. I just- I need space to work on my own projects, too Ryan. I’m sorry I couldn’t see this thing through. I really am.” Ryan let out a shaky breath.

“It’s- It’s fine. But I understand. Shit was building up and it was bound to happen. But do you have just any idea who I can get to stay? Anyone?” Brent must have shaken his head because Ryan kept talking. “Ugh. What if I don’t find anyone? I mean, it’s not an appealing job, walking around through dilapidated buildings and reviewing all this shit. Who am I gonna-”

Shane stepped through the doorway. “I’ll be your co-host,” he said with a straight face and Ryan, Brent, and Sara all looked at him like he was fucking insane.

“Uh,” Brent started, “how long were you two there?”

“Long enough,” Sara said, walking in to stand beside him.

  
“How do I sign up for the position of co-host?” Shane asked and Ryan furrowed his brow at him, still looking at him like he was the supernatural entity in the room.

“Uh, we have to pitch it to Kate,” he said. “Are you okay?” Shane smirked.

  
“As peachy as ever.”

“You’re never peachy, you prick.”

“Exactly.” Ryan still stared. It was understandable, really, but if Ryan was coming down with something and no one put any real effort into helping him through his fits then this was the best opportunity to do it. Not to mention, he could keep a close eye on him. 

Ryan asked Sara and Brent to leave the room so they could continue talking this out before they approached Kate. They seemed to be content with giving them absolute privacy because their footsteps and voices would fade into the distance the longer it’s been since they went.

“Are you? Feeling okay? Not possessed by anything?” Ryan asked. “Though that’s a stupid question if you are.”

“Nope,” Shane said, popping the ‘p’. “Frankly, I should be asking if you are possessing me-”

“Okay, see, that’s how I know you aren’t being puppe-”

“Part of it,” he said, completely talking over Ryan, “is that I’m not yet tied to anything major. Schedule’s freeeee, baby, aside from editing. The other thing is that a few birdies have told me that this whole puking thing you've got going on-” he pokes at Ryan’s chest- “isn’t just some kind of stomach bug. So, I’m taking it upon myself to babysit you.”

Ryan stared at him, a hard line in his brow. “You. You think you’re qualified to look after me.” His eyes shrunk with suspicion. Shane nodded. “And who says I need it?”

“I do.” Ryan’s eye twitched. “Ryan, you were literally this close to vomiting your actual stomach out the other day and no one was helping you.”

“Because I don’t need the help, Shane! I can take care of myself!” Shane scoffed.

“Barely. I’m pretty sure a normal person would’ve died a long time ago or would be in the hospital if they were in your place.” Ryan sighed. There was no convincing Shane otherwise.

“Okay, well- what about the fact that everyone literally goes quiet when we’re in the same room? If you want to be my co-host, we need to have mutual respect and the last time I checked, you barely treated me with any. If you travel with us to shoot, that’s going to be days stuck together, Shane. Kate knows that, and Kate also knows there’s shit between us. What makes you think she’ll approve?” Ryan scowled. The show’s popularity relied on how well he and Brent had worked together despite differences, and if Shane couldn’t rival that the least bit, then there was no hope for the show continuing. They both knew that.

  
“Well,” he sighed, “you don’t think I could keep face for the cameras? I treat you with…some respect.” It sounded flimsy and pathetic coming out of his mouth, and Shane almost winced at the realization. “I- I could try to convince her? Maybe show her? If push comes to shove-” oh boy- “you could always…pull a few strings?”

The second the suggestion was out of his mouth, Ryan looked disbelieving and pissed, frankly weeks worth of frustration finally popping the cap on itself. “Are you out of your fucking mind? Seriously, who are you?!” He backed up slightly. “What have you done with Shane?!”

“Nothing!” Shane yelled, hands patting himself down. “I swear, it’s me. I’m just-” He shrugged. “I’m concerned! What if this illness thing you’ve got going could infect other humans?” Surely he wasn’t...worried that Ryan didn’t feel well, but _what if_ he seriously got sick on shoot or something and Shane could’ve done something to help with it? It didn’t seem like anyone else was doing anything so far?

“I’ve been a part of this company for almost two years now, Shane, I think if I was contagious, we would’ve found out by now, but trust me, it’s nothing concerning. It’s…it’s a vampires only thing.” Shane opened his mouth to speak, but-

“And I’m not going to pull any shit with Kate, Shane. Zach was a necessity, Shane- this is just-! Argh!” he stuttered, frustration clear in his voice and volume rising. "Why are you even so adamant about this? Why are you trying to bud back into my life now?! _Since wh_ _ _en_ did you care how I felt!?_”

A pin drop could’ve been heard in their silence. 

Shane stared at Ryan, jaw tense. Ryan’s own eyes were wide in disbelief, not even sure why he’d asked that, even as much as he needed that question answered.

The quiet ensued and when Ryan diverted his eyes, he could still feel the tension in the room holding a knife to his neck. Finally, Shane spoke.

“Y’know. I won’t fight you on that…because I haven’t made much of a case for myself…” The disappointment was clear in his voice, but Ryan couldn’t tell who it was aimed at; at Ryan or at himself, “...but at least I fucking tried to help you.”

Ryan sighed as Shane pushed past him and walked out of the room. After a few seconds, he stuck his head out into the hall and called to Shane, “I still don’t think we should be co-hosts.” At the mouth of the hall, Shane gave him the finger without turning around, and Ryan rolled his eyes. “Case in point,” he muttered.

* * *

“Good news, Ryan!” Kate called as they approached Ryan’s desk. Surrounding colleagues began trading looks at the sight of him in Ryan’s vicinity, confused as to what was going on. Ryan himself was glancing at Shane under furrowed brows. 

“Um, what’s going on?”

“Unsolved can keep going!” She beamed. “Shane is going to be your co-host.”

He waved at Ryan, a smug look on his face while Ryan slowly gaped with confusion. “H-Hold on a second, shouldn’t I have been consulted about this? Kate?”

“It’s been a week since Brent left the project, Ryan,” she said. “Nobody else was offering up alternatives and filming for supernatural starts in another three days. Shane was entirely willing to partake, so if we want to be able to film for season three, we don’t have a choice.” 

She quieted down, “Look, I understand that the two of you have some things to work out. But at least film Vulture Mine and if you two can’t get past whatever it is, we can keep looking, but seriously, Ryan. There’s no one else we can find.” She gave Ryan a pitying look. “Shane’s our only option at the moment.”

Ryan looked at Shane behind Kate, and Shane just shrugged. When he finally claimed to understand the circumstances, Kate gave Ryan a pat on the shoulder and left.

“So…about that film schedule?” Shane asked softly, ignoring the elephant in the room. 

“I’ll email it to you,” Ryan said into his hands. “Just…make sure you have three days worth of clothes ready by tomorrow. So you don’t have to rush and have time to check your...things.”

“Three days? Aren’t we only staying to film for one?”

“Don’t question me,” he said with a faux stern, not even trying to hide the minute twitch of the corner of his lip. “On Friday, after work, we’ll pile into two cars and take the six hour drive to Wickenburg, Arizona.” To avoid the tension from the last fight, he added, “And make sure you set alarms and stuff. TJ might lose his mind and bury us alive in the middle of nowhere if you’re as bad as Brent was with time.”

“Yeah,” Shane chuckled. “Will do.” And he walked back to his desk. When everyone else thought he was out of earshot, the chatter around Ryan’s desk returned. He sighed and got back to work.

* * *

“I’m just saying you five foot four gals should pipe down when us five feet people are speaking,” Shane heard Quinta jab around the corner with no actual malice, Sara giggling. 

“This isn’t a competition, Quinta.” He could hear the grin in her voice.

“In my books, it is.” Quinta said, and Shane chose then to turn the corner, saying, “Hey, so-”

“ _Jesus fucking Christ-_ ” “SHANE, I swear on all that is holy-”

“I just want to ask about the dynamic of Ryan’s show, like, what do the fans like,” he pouted as the girls kept staring him down (a hard thing to accomplish, but they did it nonetheless). He had a mischievous glint in his eyes, though. He knows what he did. 

After getting over the scare, Quinta and Sara glanced at each other.

“You…actually convinced Kate to let you be the co-host? I thought you and Ryan got into a fight about that again?” Sara asked.

“We did,” he sighed, “and we haven’t made up. But no one else was signing up to be his co-host so I took advantage of that-”

“Oh my god-” “Of course-”

“-and landed the spot! I'll be cleared to stick around so long as I can get approval in the first episode.”

“That makes sense,” Quinta said. “Though are you really sure you can do this? Like, not to shit on you, but…you and Ryan don’t have the best track record when it comes to each other.”

_Chilled, New York air breezed past them as they rushed together to get to work. He thinks as he watches Ryan giggle, practically running to keep up with Shane’s long legs, nose and cheeks pink from the bite of the cold, that he’s never been in more love before._

_Shane makes it to their building entrance first and rips open the door, but Ryan failed to move in time and Shane hit him in the face with the door. “OH MY GOD, I’m sorry!” Shane gasps and moves to right him, but Ryan isn’t mad, nor does he seem hurt. Instead, he’s in hysterics, wheezing his lungs out. It’s not long before Shane joins him and they become two idiots late to work laughing against the concrete of their building entrance._

_Eventually, the security guard who watched it happen, who was fighting not to laugh with them, ushered them in before their fingers froze from the cold._

“We…had…some chemistry in the past. It’s been a while, but…yeah. We could pull it off.” He rubbed the back of his neck, the memory feeling like lifetimes ago. It fell quiet for a bit before Sara interjected.

“Well, you said you wanted to know about the show’s dynamic?” Shane nodded. “It’s- Just as long as you…keep a couple of jokes in here or there and make sure Ryan doesn’t lose his mind, you’ll probably be fine? Brent is the better person to talk to about out of town trips since I only ever filled in for the set shoots, but yeah. Everyone sort of brings their own style to the show if you ask me.

As long as you don’t fight…I think you’ll both be fine,” she finished. 

Don’t fight.

Don’t fight.

Shane sighed. Okay. He thinks he can do that.

* * *

“...”

“Just spit it out, Shane.” Ryan said, tilting his head in his direction but not taking his eyes off the road while they entered the freeway. “I know the look on your face when you want to say something but you aren’t sure how I’ll take it.”

Shane stayed quiet for a few more seconds before, softly, “…Adam Lambert…?” He almost couldn’t hear himself over “For Your Entertainment” playing into the otherwise empty car. Everyone else piled into the other car, equipment shared between them both. He pursed his lips like he was holding back on something. “Thats…”

“That’s what.”

“…that’s kind of gay…”

Ryan turned to Shane. “Shane. We _are_ gay.” Shane didn’t reply. “If you’re gonna laugh at your own joke, just fucking do it, god dammit,” he said, barely able to hide the tremble of laughter in his own voice.

Shane bit his bottom lip, not so subtly trying to fight a smile. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he chokes out, and Ryan breaks face first, wheezing into his hand. “Eyes on the road, Ryan.”

“I wish I could die from a car accident just so I could put an end to this without dealing with the guilt.”

“But if I survive?” Before Ryan could reply, Shane continued, “And don’t say you’ll come back to haunt me because ghosts aren’t real.” He watched Ryan try to fight another grin behind his fist.

“Y’know, I think I’m more qualified to talk about ghosts.”

“Sure, you're a supernatural creation, except you have no definitive proof that they’re real, so not really.”

“‘No definitive-’! Are you on crack cocaine?!” That’s what broke the dam for Shane, laughing hysterically as Ryan cursed and Adam Lambert sang in the background.

_“Why don’t you_

_Lock me up with joy and kisses?_

_Lock me up with love?_

_Chain me to your heart’s desire_

_I don’t want you to stop”_

_Shane watched the nightclub lights dance across Ryan’s face as he sang from the stage, eyes locked with his-_

For a moment, it felt like they never spent any time apart from that day. Shane wiped tears of laughter from the corners of his eyes and watched Ryan pout as he drove. If he tried hard enough, he could pretend that nothing ever went wrong.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The song that's briefly used in the flashback is "Lock Me Up" by The Cab
> 
> Reminder that this won't be consistently updated because I'm sort of posting as I write and I'm not really sticking to my og script lol. Also, school starts for me in two days and I have a bunch of shit I actually have to do before the semester starts oop  
> As much as I'm (regrettably) forcing myself to write this, I think I'm starting to like it ngl. I have much more fun writing the fluff ofc bc the bois fighting and accidentally or intentionally hurting each other hurts my heart

**Author's Note:**

> So, the summary of this idea is that I wanted to experiment more with Vampire Ryan. I have a good portion of this plotted out and have decided to continue writing- I'll just be inconsistent at uploading because school is starting soon, I have a lot of things to juggle at the moment, and I've had trouble motivating myself to write. However, there are some people who do want to see this pan out and I don't wanna let them down, esp since I have the idea outlined already, so like, why not write it?
> 
> I hope you enjoyed :)


End file.
